You, my moon

The hospital walls are cold, white, and gray when Hinata first enters the hospital, and after three weeks, they still do not become any warmer.

This is a fact he learns right away. Hospitals, no matter how long you stay in them, do not become more welcoming. Even when he is finally able to leave, go home, and grab some possessions to place around a hospital room dimly lit with fluorescent lights, it doesn't make it feel anymore like home. If anything, it makes it feel even less like home, because every photograph of him holding a volleyball and every golden trophy is a reminder that this room is not actually home, and maybe it never will be.

A week after arriving to the hospital, on the day he actually wakes up from his coma, he's assigned a therapist. Not a physical therapist- well, not yet, anyway- but one to help with his mental health. And at first he laughs at the idea of talking to someone, saying he'll be fine without a shrink, but after four nights straight of nothing but melatonin and nightmares, he takes up the doctors offer to go see one they have in the hospital.

She's a straight-forward and quiet woman with sleek, black, hair and a no-nonsense demeanor, but more importantly, she listens. Sometimes she listens so well Hinata rambles on and on for minutes while she silently jots things down, lost in his own stories and saying things he doesn't mean to share. And she gives him a smile and says she's happy to hear about whatever he spoke about. Sometimes it's actually funny, how quickly he goes from talking about some of the video games he's been playing in his hospital room to how fucked up he thinks life is.

And so, three weeks and four days after he's admitted to the hospital, at 12:00 on the dot, he gets into his wheelchair and heads down the hallway to Kiyoko's office. She moved it to be closer to him, because maneuvering a wheelchair when one of your arms is broken is hard enough without having to go halfway across the hospital. Just like every other day, he knocks once on the door with an arm that hurts to hold up and it's pulled open by the woman.

"Come on in, Shoyo," she says politely, holding it open and stepping to the side while he wheels in. There's a new plant in the corner, right next to a wooden bookshelf with a couple of games and books on it. One of them which he recommended, which he sees a bookmark sticking out of. He smiles, the window in front of him wide open and sunlight shining in until Kiyoko sits in front of him and blocks some of it out. He rests his hand in his lap, the broken one on the arm rest, and gives her a small smile. Even after weeks of doing this, she's still slightly intimidating. "Alright," she says through a sigh, picking up a pen and clicking it open. "How did you sleep last night?"

One thing he had grown to like about Kiyoko is that she wasn't one for small talk; her questions were always straight to the point and allowed Hinata more time to talk about more important things he was actually interested in, such as the latest video game he had been playing (he always got through them in less than a day, which shocked most of his doctors, but gave him an endless supply of games). So they got through the required questions right away, and then Hinata had half an hour to conversate, and Kiyoko would listen happily, smiling, nodding, beaming in interest even though deep down he knew she probably couldn't care less about the latest boss he'd defeated in Minecraft.

"I slept okay. I had another nightmare," he says, feeling distracted as he studies the walls. Kiyoko has hung up some minimalistic paintings and gotten some darker curtains after Hinata had complained about headaches from the bright colors in her office. Little things like that were what made her so likeable, and he smiled despite his last statement. Kiyoko leans a bit closer, showing she's listening, and Hinata realizes she wants him to talk about it. He clears his throat awkwardly. "Oh, it was just about the whole incident again."

She jots something down, brow furrowed. "Interesting. But that's completely normal, Shoyo. You might have nightmares for the rest of your life about it." He definitely doesn't find that very comforting, but he supposes he prefers it over being lied to. She looks back up at him. "However, I can find you something that might help."